The Bottle Under the Bed
by Madam Lure
Summary: Neville can't seem to make anything go his way. He can't find anything that makes him happy anymore, until he remembers that bottle he put under his bed for dire circumstances. This was dire enough for him. Written for Hogwarts Online daily prompt.
1. Chapter 1

Written for the Hogwarts Online prompt of the day.

Neville was leaning precariously close to his cauldron, trying to detect a whiff of lilies. It was supposed to be very slight so he leaned closer to the brew. Neville inhaled deeper and deeper, and with one final inhale he snorted up a good teaspoon of his precious potion. Since his nasal passage was conveniently occupied with lily scented potion he had to gape like a fish to obtain the necessary oxygen. Slughorn did not look pleased. Neville hastily drew his wand and siphoned off the potion he had spurted onto the table.

The Gryffindor was unhappy that he had messed up yet another potion by paying too much attention to detail. He was now unable to remove the scent of lilies from his nose. Alas, it seemed his accident hadn't stopped Hermione from continuing her potion four steps further where it bubbled nicely. Neville's poor habit of comparing himself to the smartest girl in the class couldn't be broken. Longbottom's heart sank; he still hadn't managed to complete a potion this year that hadn't been a second trial made up in his free time, or detention.

After he cleaned out his cauldron to start afresh he noticed that Ron and Harry were already finished and placing vials on to the desk of Horace. Harry smirked and bid the professor good day before Ron followed him outside. Neville sighed. There wasn't any way for him to work himself into that friendship even just for potions class. Seamus and Dean were smart enough to not enroll for the toughest year of potions yet, even without Snape. This left him to befriend the Slytherin gang or work by himself. He chose the latter out of pure fear.

Neville wandered back towards the common room slowly, not caring to be anywhere. He took as many staircases as he could to reach the Gryffindor tower. By the time he was past the Fat Lady he had only a few minutes before he would have to go downstairs for lunch. He walked past Harry and Ron engaged it what was probably their fifth wizard's chess match today, up the stairs, and laid down his textbook on his trunk. He unlaced his right shoe and then his right and lay stomach down on his bed. Neville kept returning to his common room thinking he had hit rock bottom, but each day he proved himself wrong with a worse day.

He knew that under his bed lay something he had a great hankering for. A bottle of Firewhiskey lay hidden by an old cloak. He had purchased it when he was shopping for his new cauldron at the end of the summer. His grandmother had stopped into Madam Malkin's set on purchasing Neville new dress robes. Before she could turn towards him with her arms full of robes of clashing colors Neville slipped out into the crowd and headed straight to the street vendor across from the Weasley joke shop. The vendor had displays of beautiful jewelry but the rumors at Hogwarts were true, the man sold firewhiskey if you asked him where he had been the last time the full moon and his birthday were on the same day. Neville thought it was a horrid system, this buying of illegal drinks, but he needed to prove something to himself.

Firewhiskey. That was it.

He bought the bottle with pride and pocketed it. He returned to Madam Malkin's where his grandmother was in an absolute tizzy.

"Where do you think you've been? Answer me lad or you won't be getting even a glimpse of your potted mandrake for a week," came the threat from Augusta Longbottom.

"I'm awfully sorry. Er- I just stepped outside because I thought I was going to puke. I saw someone consume a toad leg and I thought it was Trevor," was the drawn-out lie of Neville's.

His grandmother eyed him suspiciously but nonetheless allowed him to look over the robes she saw fitting for him for the upcoming year. Neville agreed with the least hideous, dark brown robes that were far too big for him. Augusta insisted she would hem them herself and send them to him at school. Neville felt the bottle protruding from his robe pocket but his grandmother didn't notice it. He put it in Trevor's cage the second he got home.

There he was now, lying on his four-poster, wishing he could do something dangerous to prove he wasn't the coward he felt. Dean popped his head in from the common room to tell him that they were headed down for the roasted ham lunch. Neville told him to head on without him, he had to put his shoes on still.

Neville laced his shoes up and knelt on the floor to grab the bottle. Using a bit more muscle than was necessary he unplugged the plug from the top of the bottle and took a hearty swig.

The room didn't spin the way he thought it should. He felt slightly lighter but that was about it. With his new buoyancy he headed down towards lunch, bottle in the pocket of his robe. Neville felt like being dangerous for the first time in his life. The pep in his step was obvious, and Dean was a bit worried. Seamus even offered up his coveted pudding to keep Neville is such an upbeat mood. The firewhiskey pumped through his veins like liquid potion. Not even the thought of having to redo his potions assignment from this morning scared him.

He trolled into the dungeons with a happiness that would have scared death himself. Slughorn wasn't fazed by the normally moody teenager's entrance. He assigned him to a caldron at the first desk and he set to work with the other students who weren't able to excel during normal class times. Neville opened up the copy of the textbook and started working again. The instructions looked more promising this time around.

After remembering not to double check that it smelt like lilies, Neville saw that no one in the dungeon was paying attention to him- not even Slughorn. The bottle of firewhiskey had already made three sneaky trips to his mouth while the professor's back was turned. Slughorn was now absorbed in a book, so Neville felt the risk was necessary.

Unfortunately, Neville had such little experience with alcohol so he was unaware how tipsy he had become. So when the bottle of firewhiskey came out again this time it spilled a few more than eight drops into the cauldron. The bubbles that had been heading upward reversed themselves with the addition of the whiskey. The bubbles were now traveling toward the bottom of the cauldron and disappearing.

"Hmph," said Neville not perturbed by the bubbles new direction.

The vial he handed Slughorn was of the highest quality he had ever made. He received full marks on the site and stumbled out of the room.

It looked like Neville had found his solution all bottled up.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Written for the prompt "Under the innocent sky" for Hogwarts Online. Enjoy!

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The potions dungeon was full of witches and wizards trying to remain awake during Slughorn's lecture. A haze of boredom hung heavy in the room. Everyone was craving the classes where they were free to move around the classroom to grab ingredients. Harry was itching to dig out the half blood prince's annotated book just to have something to read. Ron was trying to determine the origin of the draft in the subterranean room; it was more interesting than Slughorn's drone. Even the hand of Hermione Granger hadn't been raised in the past half hour; she was tracing her finger along a crack on the tabletop.

Neville was rocking back and forth just a little bit, his lips pursed. He had finished off the final bottle in his stash prior to class. He recalled the warm feeling as the final drops settled into the depths of his stomach, and the warmth spread until his fingertips felt like air. The free feeling of the firewhiskey was circulating rapidly but Neville knew the feeling would last only long enough to get him through potions.

There was a long pause in Slughorn's lecture and the students realized that he was looking at them strangely.

"You are free to leave, class is over in five minutes but I doubt you will understand the higher capabilities of fluxweed. If you wish to receive your marks from last class I have them up here. Don't forget the ten-inch parchment on precautions for the work we are doing during Friday's class. I require it no later than Thursday so I know that you are aware of the dangers. Have a good day," said Slugorn.

The shuffling of students was the only movement the room had seen since the start of class. A few students scooted to the front of the room and were satisfied with the marks Slughorn told them. Neville placed his book in his bag and waited behind the Golden Trio for his marks. Ron and Harry were pleased with the results that their mysterious textbook was getting them, and Hermione was appalled to receive a mark lower than Ron. Neville snorted. There was no doubt Ron had spent more time playing wizard's chess in one game than he had spent looking at a potions book in his whole life.

Granger and Ron began arguing and Harry enjoyed it too much to stop it. Neville approached the professor.

"Ah, Mr. Longbottom- you have shown a remarkable improvement since putting in more effort in class. If your last potion had been completed during the initial period it would have been the highest grade in class- no competition," Slughorn told the boy.

At this the argument between Ron and Hermione had immediately ceased. Neither could believe their non-extendable ears. Neville would have beaten the half blood prince? It was impossible. There was a tone of sincerity that shocked Longbottom out of his alcohol-induced state.

"Sir, Professor, you mean to say that I would have gotten a higher score than anyone else in class had I done that well during class?" asked Neville.

"Don't make me repeat myself Mr. Longbottom, I have more useful things to use my breath for. Now if you will excuse me," and with that Slughorn left the classroom.

"Er- well great job Neville. Didn't know you had it in you," said Harry. Potter was the first one to recover from the shock of the news.

"Thanks Harry. I didn't know I could do it either. I'll see you back in the common room."

Neville didn't head straight to the common room but chose to lounge on the grounds before returning the lair of the lions. He spread out his cloak on the ground, which was still damp from a morning rainstorm that had passed through. Neville had remembered the ceiling of the great hall rather stormy during breakfast. Nothing made eating sausage more exciting than a raging storm above you. The sun had crept out from behind a cloud for the moment and Neville basked in the momentary light. Underneath the innocent sky, Neville felt he could truly be better than any of the Gryffindors. He was going to prove himself one day and he knew it.

He loosened his tie and watched as the sun retreated behind a fluffy cloud. Neville was a determined man. He walked to the Gryffindor common room with a newfound confidence. He took his tie off completely and let the Ravenclaw prefect take five points from the lions. He even let the Slytherin prefect take off five more a few minutes later. Neville winked at a passing gaggle of fourth years and they giggled and waved back.

Neville Longbottom was going to come a long ways from the bottom of the pack. Neville is a lion.

Rawr.

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If you read it please review it!

Thanks for reading!

xx Madam Lure


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